


Barack, It’s Me, Jacques

by plantinthecorner (spierfxld)



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: :), Alternate Ending, Gay Disaster Simon Spier, Halloween, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Sum gay shit, This is an alternate way of Simon telling Bram his feelings, anyway, enjoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 00:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15107534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spierfxld/pseuds/plantinthecorner
Summary: Instead of revealing identities on the ferris wheel, Simon manages to drunkenly announce his secret to Bram at the Halloween party.OrSimon doesn't walk in on Bram making out with that girl, and this opens an opportunity for his drunken self to strike.





	Barack, It’s Me, Jacques

It's not that he isn't having a good time. He is, but 'having a good time' seems to have a different meaning when you're under stress and the influence of alcohol. The night has been going fine. His first drink did nothing to him. But even if that was true, he couldn't stop himself when one drink lead to the next, and soon beer pong happened and he's been a mess since. Somehow, though, he's managed to keep a good eye on Martin and Abby, and all that he's picked up from the situation is that Abby is extremely annoyed, and most likely ready to go home, and Martin is extremely persistent on getting Abby to talk to him. As if his night wasn't already stressful enough, Nick announced his love for Abby to him, and he's never felt so awful about lying in his life. He didn't know how else to keep the two of them apart, so he resorted to the only option he could think of, which happened to be lying.

But, through all the chaos and madness that's happened so far, he still couldn't stop thinking about Blue. He'd like to use Bram's name as a substitution for 'Blue', but there was no way to know for sure. He knows he's drunk, but for some reason, he can't stop himself from thinking the same things over and over, until it pushes him with a boost of confidence. Possibly, too much confidence. It wasn't just the small comment he'd made earlier that week about the Oreos, and how the Halloween ones were the best. Well, that was a large part of it, yes, but there was something else. It was the way Bram had been acting towards him for this entire night. Exchanging little smiles, being so gentle with his touch and the things he was saying. Then again, with Simon being the disaster gay that he is, the chance of him just completely overshooting and assuming the best was high.

So, here he is now. Standing in front of a mirror, washing his face in a poor attempt to sober himself up. Even while being drunk, he knows he sounds like an idiot.

"Bram, it's me, Jacques," He tries. He shakes his head, feeling disappointed with himself.

"Bram, it's me. I'm Jacques," He gives himself a death stare, then tries smiling once more.

"Barack, it's me, Jacques," He pauses, considering it for a second, then shaking his head once again. "why did I pick Jacques," He mumbles to himself as he exits the bathroom in a slight hurry.

He starts his search for Bram by checking outside by the pool. He catches Garrett's eye, and walks toward him. "Have you seen Bram?" He does his best to sound casual, but he can't really tell what sounds 'casual' at the moment.

"I just saw him sitting on the couch, listening to Taylor do karaoke to some song... I don't know what song it was," He says, obviously as drunk- if not, more- as Simon.

"Okay, thanks," He heads inside, but only finds Martin trying his best to sit closer to Abby, and a couple of passed out 'thespians' surrounding them. Martin sees Simon, and almost bounces off the couch.

"Si- Simon, buddy," Martin lets his hand rest on Simon's shoulder, looking absolutely destroyed from the alcohol.

"Look, Martin, now's not a good time-" Before Simon can even get all of his sentence out, Martin has projected vomit directly on his costume, and Simon can do nothing but stand there in defeat, watching as it soaks through his shirt, and drips onto his shoes.

"I'm sorry," Martin mumbles as he runs in the opposite direction.

Simon lets out the most frustrating sigh he could manage, and wobbles his way back up the steps, and in the direction of the bathroom. But right as he turns the corner, he runs into someone and immediately lets out a string of apologies. His puke shirt just rubbed off on someone else's. But, when he looks up, he finds that it's the one and only Barack. Or Bram, for that matter.

"Simon, Jesus, dude- What the hell happened?" Bram laughs, steadying Simon with a hand on his elbow.

"Uh, it's- Martin Addison just, yeah." Simon wanted to shoot himself for having such a difficult time getting words out, but the hand on his elbow made his brain shift gears. He wasn't sure he'd be able to form sentences from this point on.

"Wait, is this puke? Oh my god, he puked on you?" Bram makes a face when he realizes what he's gotten himself into. Literally. "Follow me, you can change shirts in my room. If you're wanting to, you can just shower, while you're at it," He offers.

Simon's heartbeat has picked up it's pace rather quickly. He follows Bram's steps to his room, and Bram shuts the door behind them. Simon's kind of at a loss for words. He wants to say something, he really does. He doesn't know how to bring it up, though. His mind is racing as he tries to think of ways to bring the subject to life, and he's beginning to feel more and more drunk by the seconds. Bram rummages through his dresser drawers, looking for something less puke-y for Simon to wear.

"I'm sorry, this is the best that I can find. It kind of looks like what you're wearing right now, just less puke-ish," He offers the kindest smile. "My personal bathroom is the door right here, and I mean, I think you may want to consider using-"

"Barack," Simon interrupts Bram mid sentence, and Bram turns to him.

"Uh, yeah?" He laughs, obviously more sober than Simon.

"S-sorry, I meant, Bram, um. Or Blue, I meant," He's looking everywhere but at Bram.

"Simon, bud, do you want to lay down?" Bram almost looks concerned, but he hasn't picked up on anything yet.

"Bram," He pauses, and this time he makes direct eye contact with him. "A-Are you, um. Are you Blue?" His vision begins to blur, and there's this complete silence that fills the room as soon as the question leaves his mouth. Bram doesn't move, and Simon doesn't think he can. "I'm, um." He pauses, feeling light headed all of a sudden. "I'm Blue," He pauses yet again, recollecting his statement. "I meant Jacques, I'm not Blue, I'm Jacques. I'm drunk," He rambles on, unsure of what he's saying at this point.

He falls over on the bed, and his eyes shut like there's no energy left in him to keep them open.

-

His stomach rolls in constant waves the minute he wakes up. The sun is shining through the windows, hitting him where his head hurts most. He groans, rolling onto his stomach and letting out a whine at the feeling his entire body is enforcing on him. The best way to put it would be: A pile of bricks just got dumped onto Simon, and he's just woken up with the worst aching sensation because of it. He takes the largest breath in hopes that it'll calm the unsettling feeling in his stomach. As soon as he does it, his eyes shoot open. He isn't home. In fact, he doesn't recognize the room he's in at all. He glances around, unsure of what happened the night before, or what's happening now. He tries to recollect his memories from last night, but it's almost painful to even try.

It's then that he realizes how god awful he smells. He glances down to find that his shirt is stained, and he isn't sure if he wants to find out what's causing the odor. He sits up as slowly as possible, trying to absorb his surroundings to the best of his ability. He then notices a freshly laid out pair of clothes that look somewhat similar to what he’s wearing, minus the basketball shorts. Thankful for the kind gesture of a current stranger, he tosses them on, already feeling more comfy. He glances at the night stand sitting across from the bed he's laying in, only to see photos from soccer tournaments, metals from the wins, and he quickly realizes who's room he's in. Instead of freaking out like every living cell in his body is telling him to, he just sits there, unsure of what to make of the situation. He decides to see if there's any way for him to escape without being seen.

He makes his way through the hall and down the stairs, and he's met with a stare coming from the one he calls Barack. Bram is putting dishes away, obviously doing his best to get things cleaned up without anyone else helping.

"Hey, Spier. You feelin' okay? You don't look, uh, great," Bram does his best to sugar coat the truth, but Simon just stands still on the bottom step.

He looks around. The kitchen is pretty clean for having a party like Bram had just hosted, and surprisingly enough, it looks like no one is there but the two of them. The living room is still a disaster, though. Plastic cups are scattered, furniture is only slightly stained, and only some scattered glass could be found on the carpeted area. So, a complete an utter disaster.

"I've felt better, yeah," He pauses, recollecting himself. "so, everyone just, like... left?"

Bram chuckles, "I woke everyone up who had fallen asleep here, and told them my parents were gonna be home in an hour. They freaked out and left,"

Simon stands there, too hungover to properly take in information. He glances at the clock and finds that it's past noon. "So, your parents are gonna be here soon then?" He tries to clarify.

"Uh, no. Sorry, this is awkward," Bram sets down the dish he was about to pack into the dishwasher. He has this look on his face that seems out of place. "I guess what I'm trying to ask is, like. I mean, how much do you remember from last night?"

Simon stops dead in his tracks, staring at Bram. "I remember coming here for the party, playing beer pong, and singing some karaoke with you. From there on out, it's kind of a blur," He says. "oh, god. Don't tell me I did something stupid, please. That's the last thing I need right now,"

Bram chuckles, looking down at his own feet. The air feels thicker than Simon remembers it feeling. "You did something stupid, yeah. I'd call it stupid," Bram steps out from behind the counter, and Simon runs a hand through his hair. It's too early for this. Or, at least it feels early. "you, like, got puked on by Martin Addison, which explains your shirt," Bram pauses, pointing at the messy shirt in Simon’s hands. He groans. Of course that was his luck. "so, I took you in my room to get you a better shirt. You were completely wasted, though. I didn't know what you were talking about. You kept saying these random things, and then you brought up someone you call Blue,"

As soon as those words enter the open air, Simon's heart stops. "Uh, shit," He looks down, feeling utterly and completely defeated. "that's, um. I'm sorry, that's a private thing that I shouldn't have, like. Yeah," He can't form sentences, not when he's just found out that Bram Greenfeld knows he's gay, and that he has a gay pen-pal he's been chatting with for quite some time now.

"Oh my god, Simon," Bram laughs, "You were calling yourself Jacques, or something. But hey, it's okay. I'm not gonna like, out you or anything,"

Even with the comforting words from Bram himself, Simon still felt sick at the thought of someone knowing about Blue. Well, another person that isn't Martin Addison, that is.

"I'm- Wow. This is, yeah," Sentences, Simon. Sentences.

"Simon," Bram says, and Simon looks up from where he'd been staring for too long now. Eye contact is too painful at the moment. "You asked me if I was Blue," Bram tries to hide what looks like a smile.

"I- I what? Jesus, Bram. I'm so sorry,"

"Yeah, you asked me if I was the guy you've been messaging," There's a thick silence that fills the air. "I'd be an awful person if I lied and told you I wasn't,"

That's when Simon can't feel the hangover anymore. Suddenly, it's all Bram. Bram is Blue. His Blue.

"Wha-Wait, you're... You're like, no. You're Blue?"

Bram practically giggles, "Yeah, I am. I'm sorry this is such awkward timing. I guess I thought better now than later,"

"Well, shit." Simon lets out a breath he didn't realize he's been holding for too long. "So you just, like, let me pass out in your bed? In my Martin Addison puke clothes? That was generous of you," Simon finally squeezes a whole sentence out.

"Yeah, well. You looked too cute, even as drunk as you were. I didn't want to disturb your slumber," He reaches up and tussles Simon's hair, which is an absolute mess. Simon blushes, returning his gaze to his feet. “but hey, I’m glad you’re wearing the clothes I laid out for you. You were a mess, no offense,” His smile widens.

"So, Blue." Simon smiles, the name feeling warm and familiar as it passes through his lips. "We should probably talk then, right? About this, I mean," He motions a finger between the two of them, and Bram returns the smile.

"Yeah, probably,"

And then it's quiet, once again. The two boys stand with no distance between them, and it could be the leftover alcohol talking. Maybe the buzz of a hangover. But whatever it is, it gives Simon just enough courage to seal the gap that withstands the two of them. He presses his lips to Bram's, ever so softly.

And it felt so right. In any other situation, this would be considered weird. Beyond the norm. But even if it should feel weird, it doesn't. It's like he's had this crush on someone for so, so long. And the day is finally here where he gets to bridge that gap that he didn't realize existed, and finally feel okay again.

Bram brings a hand up to rest on Simon's cheek as the two of them have their moment. Simon feels Bram smile through the kiss, and as cliché as it is, butterflies really do erupt from his stomach. He pulls away for a breath before leaning back in to repeat the motions. Simon lets his hands rest at Bram's waist as Bram wraps both arms around his neck. The second kiss is slightly more intended than the first one. Simon gently squeezes at Bram's hips, causing the (only slightly) smaller boy to let out the tiniest noise. Bram lets his fingers trace patterns in the back of Simon's hair as the two pull away.

Both boys have the biggest grins plastered on their faces at this point, and neither of them could help it.

"Good talk," He giggles.

"Yeah," Simon's smile widens. "I'd say so,"

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I'm writing this at 1 AM, but I was feeling pretty inspired. I hope anyone who read this enjoyed it. It was kind of a fic that I decided to throw together last minute, but I hope it was worth the read for you guys! Spierfeld has become my top priority lately, so I'm planning on writing more stuff.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


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